In the Hero's Shadow
by Kid Flashy Flash
Summary: Just part one... it's a long one. I put this in The Flash category because it's pretty much a copy off of him. I'll have part 2 up tomorrow, and part two is the last. i don't own the flash or kid flash.
1. Part I

**PART I:**

**The Good Days**

Peter Bowler considered jumping. As he looked off into the mid-afternoon Chicago skyline, he wondered if his life had any real meaning; if there was anything to stop him from jumping. There he was, a fourteen-year old white boy, living in a suburb of Chicago, washing windows after school just so his single mom could keep up rent. He leaned up against the window, smudging where he had just wiped.

"Pete!" Johnny shot out, grabbing him and pulling him away from the window. "C'mon, man! I just washed that and now ya got it all dirty. I ain't cleaning that up." Pete laughed and began wiping off where he had been leaning. Johnny was one of his best friends, and was in a similar situation as Pete. For the few months that they had had the job, they would always go up on the scaffolding together and work, going up to the top of some of Chicago's tallest buildings. In fact, right now they were on the 90th story of the Sears Tower.

Still, Pete looked down, down towards all of the little ant-like people, wondering really if he would be missed. Just as he was contemplating his own death, Johnny slipped on a small puddle of water, fell to the floor, and slid out into the air. Without a thought, Pete jumped after him.

Pete grabbed Johnny by the collar with one hand and the metal coils of the scaffolding with the other. Pete winced as the tightly bound coils split the flesh on his hand. _Well,_ he thought. _You've really done it now, Petey boy. Just when you're thinking 'bout suicide, you're gonna die._ He shouted one word, sorry, to Johnny as his hand holding the wire gave out and they began falling. They only dropped a few feet when Pete felt a hand grab him by his collar.

"Don't worry," a deep baritone voice came from above him. "I have you now." _No!_ Pete thought, tensing. _Now I got another guy whose gonna die. _He felt himself being lifted, and looked up. There was Velocity, the greatest super-hero of all time, holding him effortlessly and running up the wall. Velocity had super-speed, given to him by a lightning bolt he could call anytime and place. When the bolt came into contact with him, normal man Harry Kiely's clothes formed into a skin-tight black spandex suit, completed with a large red lightning bolt over his chest.

Velocity lifted them up to the top of the building, where several people rushed to their aide, bandaging his hand and such. After ten minutes of this, Pete expected Velocity to be long-gone. However, he still stood on the roof. When they made eye contact, Velocity motioned him over.

"Pete," Velocity began. "It is Pete, correct?" He nodded. "Good. Listen, I saw how you helped that boy. You could have died trying to save him." Pete nodded, expecting a lecture. "I want you to become my sidekick." Pete looked up at Velocity, staggered.

Velocity sighed. "I knew it," he said hitting himself on his forehead. "I shouldn't have bothered. Why would you want to become a superhero?" Pete shook his head quickly.

"Sorry," Pete replied. "'Just didn't expect an offer like that to be… sudden." Velocity smiled weakly. "But of course," Pete said, looking down off the roof. "Of course it's a yes." Velocity smiled.

"All right then. There's only one thing you can do now," Velocity followed Pete's gaze towards the ground. "You have to get yourself some superpowers."

"How?"

"Well," Velocity said thoughtfully. "I was considering a vat of acid, possibly some nuclear explosion…" Pete's eyes widened in fear. "I'm just kidding, of course. You'll have a lightning bolt to give you wind powers just like I do. All you have to do is call for your bolt."

"Call for my bolt?" Pete repeated, unsure. Velocity told him that whatever call he wanted, just to yell it out and the bolt would come. So, Pete walked to the side of the Sears tower and threw his head back, yelling out loudly towards the open sky. He stood there foolishly, fully expecting nothing to happen.

He was right. For almost three minutes, Pete stood at the edge of the building waiting. It was only until then did he notice Velocity knelt over, chuckling, his long brown hair falling over his eyes.

"What are you laughing at?" Pete rushed up, hands curling into fists, sure he had been duped.

"Sorry, Pete," Velocity stood up and patted Pete on the shoulder. "I actually do want you to be me sidekick. I just forgot that you would need a ring. Not many people now this, but the only way I can get zapped into Velocity-form is when I wear my ring." He showed his right hand off to Pete. On it, a solid gold ring gleamed brightly, etched with a small lightning bolt on the top. "It's this ring that lets the lightning bolt hit me. In this ring is a small, pocket dimension." He screwed up his face. "No, it's not really a dimension. Really, it's kind of like an energy. I call it the Speed Home, because, well, it's the home for speed." Pete nodded, barely following.

"So, I need to get to _my_ home," Velocity continued, "to get you a ring. I live on the other side of the city, so I might take a while, but I'll go as fast as I can."

Pete blinked. When he opened his eyes, even after a small blink, Velocity was still standing in the same spot. Only now, in his hand was a ring similar to the one he still wore.

"Sorry I took so long," Velocity said, handing him the ring. "I had to bust up an armed robbery over at Mama Falco's Pizza." Pete stared at him in awe.

"Am I going to be able to move that fast?" Pete said, slipping the ring on.

"Only one way to tell," Velocity said with a small smile. "Just rub the bolt on the ring and get ready." Pete did so, and seemingly out of nowhere, a large lightning bolt came down from the sky, striking Pete directly. Instead of the hot, burning, painful sensation that Pete knew he should be feeling, he felt a warm and pleasant sensation. His clothes began to meld together into a silver spandex suit, one piece from toe to his shoulders. Pete's shoulder-length blonde hair flew up as electricity surged through his body. A pair of red aviator goggles with orange-tinted lenses covered his face. Finally, an electric-blue lightning bolt appeared on his chest.

His hair returned to normal, Pete looked at Velocity. Velocity smiled.

"Nice costume, Haste," Velocity said proudly.

"Haste?" Haste said. examining his new suit.

"Yeah, I thought Haste kind of fitted. When I told you to yell for the bolt and you spazzed out on me, I thought, 'Wow, this is one hasty kid.' So you're Haste now." Haste nodded his approval. "I think it's time for some super-training, and I _don't_ think that the roof of the Sears tower is a good place for it. Hold on, then." Velocity scooped Haste up into his arms and ran to the edge of the roof, leaping off and soaring through the air.

"Can you fly?" Haste asked nervously. Velocity shook his head with a wide grin and Haste began to scream as they fell downwards. Velocity began to pump his legs furiously in the open air. By pressing hard enough, he constructed an air column that supported their weight, slowing them down enough to safely land.

"Wow," Haste said. "What a rush." And thus, his training began.

"Just close your eyes and concentrate," Velocity told him. "It really comes naturally. Actually, it's not like _you're_ moving fast… more like everything else is slowed down." When Haste opened his eyes, Velocity stood unmoving. In fact, he noticed, everything was unmoving. Haste smiled. He had done it, and made his first jump into super-speed. Suddenly, Velocity began moving at Haste's speed.

"Sorry," Velocity said. "It took me a while to match your speed. Right now, I'd say you're moving at about 300 miles per hour. Now, that's fast for a normal human, but you're nothing but normal now. My top speed is about one hundred and fifty-five thousand miles per hour, just under 200 times the speed of sound. Let's see how fast you can take that tiny body." So, side by side, they shot off through Chicago.

In minutes, they had reached some empty space that was mostly farmland. "Time to pick it up," Velocity said, and began pumping his legs. To them both, their current speed of two-hundred miles per hour was nothing but a jog. As their speed skyrocketed, Haste heard a loud banging noise.

Scared, he shouted, "What was that?" Velocity simply shrugged it off.

"No big deal. That was just a sonic boom. We're only going around seven hundred-seventy eight miles per hour. No biggie." Haste stared in awe. They continued running, at this point almost fast enough to not be leaving footprints.

"Hey, Velocity?" Haste said after they cleared through as small village somewhere in Kansas. "How come we're not disintegrating?"

"Huh?"

"Like, why aren't we turning into bags of jelly? We're moving fast enough be nothing but piles of ooze."

"Oh yeah," Velocity smiled. "I've had a couple scientists look into that, and they found that… well, we speedsters don't have to follow that particular law of physics. Anyway, ready to brake?" Haste looked around. Velocity had led them back to Chicago, approaching the Sears tower. Velocity stopped, going from almost one thousand miles per hour to zero instantly. Haste tried to stop, too, but was unable. He tried to concentrate to make the speed leave him; to make himself drop out of super-speed, but continued. Haste felt a slight breeze as Velocity caught up to him.

"I said stop!" Velocity screamed, his face worried.

"I don't exactly know how," Haste said worriedly. Velocity slapped himself on his forehead.

"All you need to do is do a one-eighty. Just turn around and all the speed negates itself." Haste did so, and felt his speed immediately leave. "Sorry about that," Velocity said, breathing deeply as he appeared beside him. "I figured that it was just kinda common sense."

Two and a half years passed by with Haste happily being Velocity's sidekick. He finally was making some money, doing endorsements and the like, and was able to support his family. He still attended school, though with various breaks to go and save the world. Haste and Velocity became thicker than thieves, which, Haste thought, wasn't a very good expression; he found that when he and Velocity showed up, thieves kind of became every-man-for-themselves. Haste and Velocity dealt with all criminals: ranging from petty thieves to criminal masterminds; it was easy to do all of the crimes when you can circumnavigate the globe by foot. Velocity became the surrogate father that Haste never had. Life was good.

Their happy life, however, was doomed. When Haste was just sixteen, a man known only as Iron Blade came to the city of Chicago. If Iron Blade was a hero, then he would have been the greatest ever to live. Unfortunately, this was far from the case.

Iron Blade came to Chicago on a cold, rainy morning. He rode into town on an over-sized motorcycle, made to fit his oversized body. Iron Blade stood just over seven feet, but weighed well over 500 pounds due to solid, enormous muscle. His skin was tinted gray, and his entire eye was black, almost blacker than his shaggy long hair. He wore a ripped-up leather jacket and jeans, and dangling from his belt was a 37-inch iron scimitar, hence the name. No matter how much research Haste did afterwards, he found no information on where Iron Blade could have come from.

Iron Blade rode his motorcycle right next to the Sears Tower, where everything began. Stopping in the middle of the street, he drew out his scimitar, pointing it at a taxi cab and raising his palm in a "stop" motion. Calmly, Iron Blade walked towards the taxi and raised the hood up. Normally, a Chicago cabbie would be screaming at the guy, but Iron Blade had a certain presence about him.

Iron Blade stabbed down into the oil tank of the cab. He walked several steps away from the car, not noticing that traffic had completely stopped. As the oil was dripping out, Iron Blade drew out a small lighter, lighting it and throwing it into the hood of the car. Instantly, the car blew up, killing the driver and the three passengers. His death count was up to four. Iron Blade smiled.

Retrieving his scimitar from the wreckage (somehow, the weapon remained unhurt), Iron Blade walked towards the sidewalk, where a young mother pushed a stroller carrying her newborn baby. Iron Blade gestured towards the baby, before saying in a deep, slightly slurred voice, "Give me the child." The mother screamed and gathered the baby in her arms. Iron Blade made a quick lung with his scimitar, impaling the woman.

"Foolish woman." He then continued to pick up the crying baby, staring at it for a moment.

Within three seconds, Velocity and Haste were on the scene. Iron Blade calmly walked in front of them. Behind him, the baby laid on the ground beside her mother, its head removed from its shoulders. Before they could say anything, Iron Blade made a lunge straight towards Velocity. He barely had time to enter super-speed and side-step the scimitar. Velocity ran in a quick, 3 block circle, barely taking him a second and a half, gaining speed and driving his fist into Iron Blade's stomach. It seemed that Iron Blade didn't even feel the seven hundred miles per hour of force driving into him. He didn't even flinch.

"Haste," Velocity said, glancing over his shoulder before dodging the scimitar again. "I need some help here. Let's go with Dire Attack Alpha. I think we're going to need the big guns for this one." Haste gulped. Dire Attack Alpha was one of the most serious attack formations they had worked through; they had never had to use it. The main objective of the attack: aim for the head. Velocity broke away from Iron Blade and ran to the side of Haste.

"On my go," Velocity said through gritted teeth, "Ready, set, go!" Haste and Velocity joined both their hands together and began to run around in circles. Finally, centrifugal force lifted Haste off the ground so that only Velocity spun them both around. Moving at over 200 thousand miles per hour, Velocity let go of Haste, sending him flying towards Iron Blade. Feet out, Haste struck Iron Blade directly in his temple, a blow that would, if not take a normal person's head off cleanly, instantly kill them. Iron Blade didn't stagger. Haste and Velocity again stood side by side, breathing deep.

"Your speed attacks do not hurt me," Iron Blade said. "You will have to try something different."

"All right then," Velocity said, his face the poster child for grim determination. "You zap 'em, I'll fry 'em." Haste nodded. They had worked on this formation too. As Velocity began rubbing his palms together, Haste began scooting his left foot across the ground. Haste super-speeded towards Iron Blade, dodging the scimitar blade and reaching his right palm out, touching Iron Blade's skin, sending 120,000 volts of static discharge into Iron Blade's skin. Surprisingly, Iron Blade felt it, wincing a little bit and breathing heavily from built-up pain. Velocity then ran up to Iron Blade, grabbing his neck with friction-burnt gloves ranging in temperatures of 5,250 degrees, half the temperature of the surface of the sun.

Now cringing in pain, Iron Blade lashed out at Velocity with his scimitar. Velocity was able to dodge the blade, but had to let go of Iron Blade's neck.

"All right then," Velocity said, glancing towards Haste. "I'll take him up, you bring him down." Haste nodded and smiled. This was another one of their unused plans, but he was sure it would work. Around where Iron Blade stood, Velocity began to run around in circles. He continued to run, going easily at speeds over 150 times the speed of sound. Finally, after almost forty-three seconds, Velocity created a small speed-tornado, effectively lifting Iron Blade off the ground and into the sky.

That is when Haste went into motion. He shot up the side of the Sears Tower, not stopping when he reached the top, but continuing to run up nothing. When his speed from the building began to run out, he turned around, heading straight down headfirst, pumping his legs to gain speed. Haste ranged the distance between himself and Iron Blade, who was still rising up, at around 200 feet. When Haste was less than ten feet away from Iron Blade, Velocity shut off the tornado that was rising up and allowed Haste to make contact with Iron Blade, driving him earthbound.

As the two soared down, Iron Blade grabbed for his scimitar. Before he could make a stab at Haste, though, Haste jumped away from Iron Blade, creating air columns as Velocity showed him his first day with super-powers. For Iron Blade, however, there was no slowing down, and certainly no stopping. With a sickening crunch, Iron Blade hit the hard Chicago pavement. Velocity zoomed over to where Iron Blade laid on the ground.

"He's unconscious, but still living," Velocity said, raising a limp arm on Iron Blade. "We'll have to change that." Haste looked towards him, surprised.

"You mean, like," Haste drew a finger across his throat. Velocity nodded. "Velocity, you can't." Haste said, walking between him and Iron Blade. "It's not our job to play judge, jury and executioner. That's not our position." Velocity nodded again, a look sorrow plastered on his face.

"If this guy wakes up, there's no telling who he could kill," Velocity moved Haste aside with a hand. "Do you remember when you asked why we didn't turn to jelly when we went so fast?" Haste murmured a quite, "Yes."

"Well," Velocity said. "I told you that we speedsters didn't have to follow the laws of physics. I'm guessing that this guy," He kicked Iron Blade in the side, "isn't a speedster. So let's turn this guy into some jelly. It's the only way." With that, Velocity picked Iron Blade up and set him on his shoulder and began to run.

Haste followed closely behind him, mentally gauging their speed every couple hundredths of a second. As they neared the appropriate speed, Haste considered closing his eyes. He knew this wasn't going to be pretty. Velocity, Haste figured, only needed to increase his speed ten more miles per hour and then….

He shuddered. Then he noticed something else shuddering. Iron Blade was beginning to regain consciousness. Haste looked down, and still clutched in Iron Blade's hand was his ruthless scimitar. Just as Haste was going to say something, Iron Blade raised his hand up and struck the scimitar between Velocity's shoulder blades. In a final movement, Velocity shoved Iron Blade forward, getting him to the proper speed.

Haste could only stare as Iron Blade's molecules tore apart from each other, creating only a slight red haze where Iron Blade used to be. Haste ran up beside Velocity, though he could tell there was nothing he could do. Out of Velocity's back poured a thick stream of blood. Haste stared down at Velocity, and at the place where Iron Blade evaporated, and up at the sky.

Appropriately so, it began to rain, a small consolation to hide Haste's tears. Haste picked Velocity's body up and super-speeded to the hospital. Although he could have taken him to one in the nearby city, he carried him all the way to Chicago. He arrived at Mount Sinai Hospital only seconds later, but to him it seemed like an eternity. At first, everyone seemed to want to know what happened to Iron Blade, but that was only in the split second before they noticed Velocity limp in his arms.

Velocity was officially pronounced dead only two minutes later. Although Velocity died a hero, Haste only cared about on thing: He had died.


	2. Part II

**PART II**

**Velocity's Funeral**

**And**

**The Legacy He Left**

**For Haste**

The funeral for Velocity was monumental. It was held in Washington, D.C., in a special burial ground for fallen heroes. I stood, clad in my silver uniform, accepting condolences from people I didn't know, though some said I had saved their life. I was Velocity's closest thing to family, and I was treated as though I was his son throughout the proceedings.

"Haste?" I heard a voice calling me, a deep and assuring voice. I looked up from my shoes and found myself face-to-face with the world's greatest protectors: The Ultranationalist, an embodiment of the patriotic spirit and a pretty nice guy; the Genie, possibly Velocity's best friend who had the ability to infuse himself with a magical genie; Tornado and his sidekick Whirlwind, who could control wind; and Halfling, a girl who was neither dead nor alive and had the powers of the afterlife while the body of a mortal. It was Tornado who had called me.

"Listen, Haste," It was still Tornado; "We understand that you're upset about this, but you have to realize that he sacrificed himself for a good cause."

"If there's anything you need," the Genie said softly, tears shining in his eyes. "Just give any of us a call. We'll be there." Everyone nodded their consent to this. We all continued talking for a while, mostly of Velocity, some, of the shoes that I had to fill, as if I hadn't already thought about it. After several hours, with only us heroes remaining, the Ultranationalist nodded goodbye to everyone and spread his wings into the sky, closely followed by Tornado and Whirlwind, riding a large gust of wind they created. Halfling gave me an awkward hug, took three steps, and teleported.

"The city of Chicago is yours to protect now," the Genie, the only one who still remained. "Really, anything you need, just give me a shout, and I'll hear it no matter where I am." We shook hands, sharing a moment to give our final respects to Velocity. "Want me to give you a lift back to Chicago?" I gave a weak smile and accepted. The Genie waved a hand in front of my face, and him and I both rose into the twilight sky. I stared down at Velocity's tomb, visible even from that altitude. Then Genie and I sped away into the sky.

In Velocity's will, the short will that it was, it said only one thing:

I leave all of my possessions, physical and monetary, to Peter D. Bowler, alias Haste, who was my faithful sidekick and faithful friend.

I considered it, and it was only then that I realized that I was Velocity's friend. In his will, I received his large estate and his bank account, a sum that was well into the millions. A portion of the money went into a fund for college, but I was still left with more money that I had ever had in my entire life. And thus, my solo heroics began.

I let Chicago down my first two months as a solo hero. At that time, I was still in remorse and also trying to adapt to the new speeds given to me by Velocity's old ring. I fought crime, but poorly, and Chicago's crime rate went higher than since Velocity became I hero. Whenever I would fight crime, I would feel like I had to live up to the expectations set by Velocity. In truth, it was because I did.

After two months of failing sometimes even to stop bank robberies, I got a visit from the Genie and the Ultranationalist.

"Hey, Haste," the Ultranationalist said in his kind, deep voice. "We just wanted to come and see if you were okay and to do something…" He paused, and I looked at him, waiting. Before I could react, I felt a large, purple hand slap me across my face. I staggered, and stared up at the Genie, who had created the hand.

"Whoops," he said with a grin. "I just thought that you, maybe, needed to _slap_ out of it. See, it's funny, because the saying is snap out of it and I slapped you so…" His voice trailed off.

"Peter," the Ultranationalist said, and I cringed. I had never been called Peter while in my costume. "Velocity knew the risks when he decided to use his gifts for good. He died destroying someone who, if left unchecked, could have taken out Chicago one by one. Velocity was a hero, through and through."

"Chicago is your city now, Haste," The Genie had finally stopped laughing. "It's yours to protect or destroy. Right now, you're leaning to the latter. Pull it together, man!" For several hours, we continued talking about Velocity, the same as at the funeral, but more personal. It was during those hours that I fully realized that I wasn't a sidekick anymore. I was Haste, super-hero, and that's all that I was. I needed to straighten up.

To make a long story short, I did. In the next two years, I worked my butt off, between school and super-heroics. In that time, at risk of sounding clichéd, I journeyed from a boy into man. Also, in that journey, I read every book in the Chicago Public library. It took me about an hour moving at one of my top speeds, but I felt that it was necessary, for some reason. I read every book, from the children picture books to the encyclopedia.

"Why'd you do it?" a reporter asked me one day. "Wasn't there something better than you could have been doing?" I smiled at him. There was only one way to answer his question: use really big words.

"I am in the humble opinion that at that precise instantaneous hour I could use my capability and capacity to broaden my intellect and overall mental efficiency." That's what he gets for messing with a guy who not only read but memorized the thesaurus. And with that, I sped away.

I was truly living on cloud nine. I began not only defeating evil, but truly bettering society. For the second time in my heroic life, however, sorrow was destined to come in the middle of my euphoria.

It happened when I was sitting in a small restaurant, wearing normal clothes. I had already run my rounds around the city, and I hadn't gotten any calls from any other heroes for help. I sat on a swivel chair up on a booth, sipping a cold pop, glad to be well and glad to be on top of the world. I loved to come to this restaurant because they often served me free food. Velocity had decided to tell the world his secret identity and I had followed suit even before he died. He figured if a villain came to hurt someone he loved, he could be there before they could pull a trigger. Plus, it wasn't as if people wouldn't notice a lightning bolt coming out of a blue sky to give us our speed… or rather, me my speed.

I heard a loud scream coming from the outside, almost a block and a half away. I jogged outside, the waiter shouting to me that the drink was on the house and rubbed the ring with my pinky. I looked up into the sky, watching the lightning bolt come out of the sky and strike me where I stood. I felt the familiar surge of energy enter me as my new costume wove itself around me.

After I had finally reconciled Velocity's death, I changed my costume as an honor to his memory. The only changes that I made were switching the color of the bolt on my shirt from electric blue to the red that was formerly on Velocity's shirt. I also no longer wore the goggles.

I took off, super-speeding in the direction of the scream. A block away, I saw where I was headed. The Sears tower loomed overhead. Then I saw whom I was saving. A young boy, no older than 14, was falling straight down at a speed of five feet per relative second (a second to me at super-speed is a lot longer than an actual second. The only problem was that he was only seven feet from hitting the hard pavement. I closed my eyes and sprinted as hard as I could, counting his feet from the ground. I retched as I realized that I wasn't going to make it. Still, I sprinted as hard as I could, my molecules buzzing around as I charged ahead. I was three feet away from the boy when he hit the ground.

The boy died instantly, his innards spreading out around him in slow motion. I screamed aloud as I was covered in the wet blood. I turned around, stopping and staring as the boy died. Everyone else around me screamed. I couldn't believe myself. As a hero, there were always casualties, but villains always caused them. Not this time. This young boy's death was directly my fault. I could have and should have saved him.

I did the only thing I knew how to do. As the crowds advanced on me, asking why I didn't save him, I ran. Within a second, I was supersonic. I sprinted as hard as I could. I don't know if I was trying to run away from it, or if I was just trying to burn off some steam. As I ran, I could only think of myself, and how I failed that boy, and how Velocity could have saved him. That boy was just like me, falling off the Sears tower. Velocity saved me, and he did it with a smile on his face.

I ran like a never ran before. Raw energy crackled off of my body as a circumnavigated the world, running across the water like it was rock and over mountains like they were speed bumps. At the speeds I was traveling, my molecules were so loosely packed together so that I passed through solid objects like they weren't there. I ran faster than I had ever run before, and faster than Velocity ran. Every time I passed through North America, I was sure to steer clear of Chicago. I went faster and faster, my eyes tinted yellow with lightning.as my speed increased.

It was after I had run around the world almost one hundred times that I bothered to clock my speed. I was traveling at exactly light speed. I was moving faster than anybody had ever moved, and on foot to boot. I then made a mistake: I traveled faster. I broke the light-speed barrier, and I felt myself leave the earth.

I literally tore a hole in the universe. Our dimension does not allow for objects to travel faster than the speed of light, so I was thrust into another dimension. No, it wasn't really a dimension. Really, it was kind of like an energy field. I had entered the Speed Home. It was an area of pure white light. I kind of just floated there, unsure. I moved, unsure, which felt incredibly slow though I still moved at light speed. I was sure that I was to be trapped forever. Then I heard a deep baritone voice.

"Don't worry. I have you now." My eyes snapped wide open, scared. That voice was Velocity, and those were the words when he first saved me.

"Velocity, is that you?" I said, my eyes searching for the source, though I found none in the blinding light.

"Haste! Hello, my old friend. How have you been? I hope you are keeping Chicago safe. This is the Speed Home, in case you didn't know yet." I did. "This is where speedsters go when they… pass on. I am now part of the Speed Home, and it is not your time to be here yet. That is the only reason you have a physical embodiment here."

"So," I said, hoping wherever I was looking was the correct place. "I'm not dead?" He responded no. "Good. So, am I just here?" He responded yes.

"I never knew that a plus-light-speed travel would result in coming here," Velocity said. "I'm glad that it did. That young boy's death was not your fault. If you had not gone as fast as you could have, then I would be disappointed in you. But I saw you sprint to him. I saw your body pulse as fast as it could."

"Velocity, I'm begging you! I think that I still have some good to do in the world. I need to be with the world. I need to comfort that boy's family. I need to…"

"Silence," Velocity said softly. "I am in a firm belief that everyone deserves a second chance, especially for a boy as great as the one that you were unable to save. Have fun with yourselves." I felt myself turning in the air, my body contorting to different positions. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, I was back in our dimension. More specifically, I was in Chicago. Then I heard a scream.

I sprinted again, seeing the boy fall. Though this time, he was at the top of the building. I turned my body ninety degrees, running straight up the building. I lowered my speeds so he could see me, and scooped him up in my arms. I took him up to the top of the building and set him on the roof. After the nurses and paramedics on the top of the building checked to make sure he was okay, I beckoned him over. After a few pleasantries, I looked the boy, Jake, in the eyes.

"I want you to be my sidekick."


End file.
